


Twisted Hearts

by Winter_Oswin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Female Brock Rumlow - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Gay Steve Rogers, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Natasha Romanov, M/M, Musician Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Poor Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rich Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Trans Clint Barton, Unconscious Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-08-02 15:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Oswin/pseuds/Winter_Oswin
Summary: James Barnes' life was planned out for him pretty much since he was born. Grow up in the fashion industry, graduate from Blackwood Academy, marry Brooke Rumlow, inherit his parent's fashion empire, die rich and old. He never thought that any other future would be possible until Steve Rogers stepped onto the scene.Steve Rogers isn't known to plan... anything really. He sees an opportunity and takes it. He's pretty contempt with this way of life, even when it leads him into a world he was never supposed to be a part of. He thought nothing could surprise him anymore until James Barnes throws him off completely.





	1. Chapter 1

"Blackwood Academy was founded in 1899 by Archibald Blackwood. It's one of the leading private schools in the country and the school for New York's future high society..."

I tuned out the voice of the girl that was leading me around the school grounds. Mainly because everything she said, I already read in brochures and online. 

Instead I focused on taking in my surroundings. Blackwood Academy was one of these schools that has been around since forever. The Stanford of High Schools is what it was called sometimes. 

Taking a look at the huge towering building in front of me, I could understand why. It had something dark and imposing but still luxurious. 

The private school was one of the most expensive ones in the country and usually only obtainable for the children of the upper 1%.

Needless to say I felt pretty out of place. 

The girl that was leading me around, she introduced herself as Cameron, was a senior and looked like the picture perfect student for this school. Gorgeous face with full lips, long blonde hair, and an outfit that probably cost more than my rent. 

When I was looking at the website of this place and saw all the photos of picture perfect teens smiling at the camera, dressed in expensive suits and dresses, I already figured that I would pale in comparison. 

Now that I was here, dressed in a simple shirt and pants, with my mom's old denim jacket and my beat up converse, I realized how underdressed I actually was. 

This whole Blackwood-Academy-Thing was a crazy idea from the start anyways. 

A friend of mine found out that the prestigious school offered a number of scholarships every year and what should I say, I love a good challenge. 

Since I already had straight A's in most of my subjects I just put in some extra work and then applied for one of the scholarships that covered the entire cost of the school. Just to see if I could do it. 

And surprise, surprise. I made it. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to afford to even set a foot into the foyer.

As we continued our way through the school the other students slowly started to arrive. It was the first day of school, so of course there were a lot of excited girls, screaming as they jumped into each other's arms. 

While most of the students weren't dressed in full on suits and shit, it was still easy to distinguish between the kids who's parents paid for them to be here, and those few who got here with a scholarship.

The schoolhalways looked like a boujee version of my old high school. They still had red lockers but the walls weren't just white plaster but wainscoting made of dark wood. The floor was fucking white marble. 

We suddenly stopped and I tuned back in to hear the girl say:"...and here we are at your first class. Mr. Brosch is kind of a dick but you'll be fine. Any questions?", she asked overly enthusiastic which was an indicator that her whole demeanor was a fake. 

"Nope.", I shrugged, popping the p and before I could even say anything else she already departed. 

So I turned around and entered the classroom. According to my schedule this was AP English and the other students started to come in as well.

I picked my seat as long as I could and sat down in the right back corner by a  window. 

Don't get me wrong, even if I didn't plan on getting into this school, I'm not stupid. I know that this was a unique opportunity and I didn't plan on wasting it. 

But I still didn't want to sit in the front and put a target on my back on my first day. 

So I leaned back in my chair and watched the others enter. A few guys and girls were chatting and every once in a while I would see them glance over at me and snicker.

It wasn't really bothering me since I saw something like this coming. But still, really? It's not like I'm a fucking unicorn. And I'm not the only scholarship student either. 

I quickly banned the thought of the other students out of my mind. After all, I wasn't here to make friends. I had enough friends. 

No. I just wanted to get through these two years so I could get better opportunities at whatever future-me wanted to do with his life. 

So I tuned out the other students and focused on the teacher that entered the classroom. 

A relatively young guy, probably in his late 30s. Pretty short but well build for his height. He knew how to dress, that's for sure. With his white button up shirt with rolled up sleeves, the black vest that matched the pants and the velvet tie. 

It was all perfectly fitted and adding his black curls and light blue eyes, if he wasn't my teacher I would've gotten more than a little flustered. 

But again, I wasn't here for that. So I forced myself to focus on his words.

"Welcome back to another year ladies and gentlemen. I hope you relaxed over the summer because we are getting straight back into business. But first, I see a new face here.", I was so distracted by his British accent that I needed a second to realize that everyone had turned towards me now. 

"Steve Rogers", I said shortly with a smirk and a small wave, intentionally letting my vision blurr so that I wouldn't really see the expressions of any of my new classmates. Then I looked back at the teacher who just nodded. My short introduction seemed to be enough for him. 

And thus, the class began. I'll spare you the nap-inducing details. The truth is, I'm not too fond of school. 

I like to learn on my own devices, and even if I was really good at school and always put in the work, I was so bored. In some subjects I felt like I could just go on autopilot and my body would go through the motions while my mind wandered off to somewhere else. 

My first class went fine. So did my second one and so on and so forth. I was just going through the motions, trying to blend into the background as  good as possible. 

When it was time for the lunch break I didn't go to the cafeteria but instead to the schoolyard. 

The school was constructed like a square with a huge yard in the centre of it. It was greener and cleaner than the schoolyard of my old high school ever was at any point I time. 

Out here were enough other people as well so I just picked an empty bench in one corner of the square. This way I had a pretty good view of everything and nobody could come up behind me. 

This place was truly beautiful. Like a miniature central park and because of the building completely enclosing us I felt literally cut off from the rest of new york. 

Like I wasn't even here. And it wasn't just this yard. This whole school, the upper East side felt like a completely different world and I felt like an intruder.

I took out the sandwich that Max made for me this morning. BLT with mayo and honey mustard sauce. Just like I liked it. 

As I sat there, ate and contemplated how much I already missed my friends at my old school I didn't even notice the person that walked up to me until he waved his hand in front of my face. 

A tall black dude, with short hair in a pair of black pants, grey shirt and a green jacket stood in front of me.

I figured that he was probably not one of the rich kids by his work out jeans that didn't look like they were made to look like that. Also none of his clothes seemed to be designer. 

"You are sitting in my spot!", he said in a tone that wasn't really angry or anything. It sounded more like a question. And his raised eyebrows added to that. 

I quickly slid over to one side of the bench. "There is enough room.", I shrugged before returning my attention to my food. 

He seemed to hesitate before finally sitting down and taking a plastic box filled with mac'n cheese out of his backpack. 

We ate in silence for a while but I could sense him glancing over at me every once in a while. 

"I've never seen you here before.", he finally said and again it sounded like a question. 

"Haven't seen you either.", I returned with a smirk before biting into my sandwich once more. 

He rolled with his eyes before saying:"Yeah no shit! Are you new?"

My cheeks were still stuffed so I just nodded while chewing. "Scholarship.", I then said, but it was all muffled because I was still chewing. 

The boy didn't pull a face, instead he grinned slightly. "Oh! Welcome to the club then. I had no idea we would get another social case this year.", the stranger seemed much more relaxed now that he knew I wasn't one of the rich kids either. 

"Social Cases?", I asked with a raised eyebrow after swallowing my food. 

"That's what they call us. Like come on. Just because we can't afford the tuition, doesn't mean we all live in government housing with food stamps and shit. 

I almost choked on the next bite I took, which didn't go by unnoticed.

The boys head snapped towards me with wide eyes as I coughed, trying to catch a breath. "Well, we can't all be upper middle class either, can we?", I finally snapped to which he didn't say anything at first. 

Yeah, my mom and I lived in an apartment that was provided by the NYCHA. And yes, we lived off of food stamps. I had to get used to that years ago and I had made my peace with it. 

It's also gotten easier since I knew Max, who regularly helped me out, even if I didn't ask him. 

But it still got my blood boiling when others, who had no clue of the people I grew up around, felt they could make judgements about us. 

The silence between us was uncomfortable until he finally sighed and said:"I'm sorry. I didn't think before I spoke. Can we start over? I'm Sam."

I glanced over at Sam and his smirk. It wouldn't harm to have at least one allie in this place so I sighed before replying:"Okay. Second try. I'm Steve."


	2. Chapter 2

It didn't take me long to realized that Sam could talk like a waterfall if you just let him 

We spend the entire lunch break together and the whole time I was eating while he was talking. 

About the school, the teachers, which AP classes he had, which rich kids were okay and which ones you should absolutely avoid.

"Yes. Jack Rollins and Seff Tate are sadistic assholes. They got more than one scholarship student to quit in the last three years. You should avoid them as much as possible.", he explained and I only nodded while eating the last bit of my sandwich. 

"And don't get me started on Barnes. The dude looks like a mix between an angel and a vampire, pretty and hot, but something is definitely wrong with him." I didn't even have to ask what he ment by that. Sam told me right away. 

"He's super rich and popular, yada yada, while he doesn't seem to have fun in assaulting random people, like his friends do, he doesn't stop them either. And every once in a while he just explodes. 

Last time was right before summer break. I wasn't in that class but I heard that he suddenly screamed, jumped up and threw his chair against the white board like a maniac. 

They even called an ambulance because he wouldn't calm down and just kept on screaming. 

He was just gone for the rest of the school year. Probably in a psych ward. But his family kept the whole ordeal out of the press. "Barnes son experiences psychic break!" probably wouldn't have let their company look pretty good."

When I asked him what kind of company he was talking about, Sam explained that Jamed Barnes' mother was the successful model turned fashion designer Kaitlyn Barnes and his father owned a model agency. 

"Okay, I got it. Stay away from James Barnes and his friends.", I nodded as we made our way back into the school building. 

"Yes. And their goons.", he said before starting to whip his head around. "Wait, let me see if I can point them out to you. "

After shuffling through the hallways for a while, Sam suddenly elbowed me in my side and pointed at a boy who stood by one of the classroom doors. 

He wasn't as tall as me. But with my 6'2 feet I'm already above average. Also he was quite slim, but in an elegant way. His black leather jacket looked used but in a way that made it clear that it was supposed to look like this. The black and white checked pants were baggy and cuffed, his white button up shirt wasn't tugged in and his black combat boots looked brand new. 

Everything about his clothes screamed fashion. So this had to be James.

But his clothes weren't really what caught my attention. It was his face. 'A mix between an angel and a vampire' as Sam described him was an extreme understatement. 

His alabaster skin offered an incredible contrast to his silky black hair. His ice blue eyes looked like they could freeze you if you looked for too long. And his cheek bones, don't let me get started on those. 

That bastard looked fucking chiseled. Like, who gave him the right to look so damn gorgeous. 

I was about to contemplate if a little crazy was too much of a red flag to get involved with him when I saw his rosy Lips curl into a smirk before reaching down to kiss a brunette that stood next to him. 

"Is that his girlfriend?", I heard myself ask and Sam nodded as we passed them by. 

"Yes. Brooke Rumlow. A toxic bitch, really. You should just avoid everyone around Al.", he shrugged and I had to stop myself from sighing. 

Great. Why are the hot ones always crazy, or taken, or straight. Or in James' case, apparently all three. 

The rest of the school day went by uneventful. I had a psych class with Sam which was fun. I also learned that he's a Crack at psychology and wants to study it later. 

After school was over I watched all the other students spilled out of the building. A few stayed back because of school clubs and shit and I sat down on the stairs that lead up to the entrance. 

I could've just walked to the next underground station but Max insisted on picking me up after my first day and take me out eating. 

The thing with Max is that his time management is a mess to the point that he's either comically early or literally hours too late. Today it was the latter.

Over the years I got used to it and always planned ahead so that I would have something to do while I waited for him. 

So I sat down and started to do my homework. And when I was done with that I took out my notebook and continued on the lyrics for a song I thought of two nights ago. 

Ain't it easy to just cave in  
Spend to long at the bottom line  
Darling our love's a sin  
Still I wanna call you mine

I wasn't too sure about this one yet. But then again, I was never sure with love songs.

Kinda hard to describe something you haven't experienced yet.

With a groan I scratched everything I had just written and took a look at my smartphone. Max gave it to me last year on my birthday and refused to take it back. It still looked as good as new except for one little dent at a corner where my mom once threw it against a wall. 

The clock told me that I've been waiting for about one and a half hours which ment he'd probably arrive in the next thirty minutes. 

So I packed up all my stuff, put on some headphones and started to listen to EDEN songs.

It was around the third song when I heard muffled yelling behind me. 

Then I saw two people storm past me down the stairs. I soon recognized them as James Barnes and his girlfriend. 

They were clearly fighting and James was running after the girl. Also they didn't notice me. 

I could've just continued minding my own business, listening to my music but my curiosity got the best of me. 

When I put out my music I could hear their voices clearer. 

"-I don't care! I'm your girlfriend! I deserve your attention!", Brooke what's-her-name yelled and walked up to the street, looking around. 

James tried to touch her by her shoulder to turn her around but she slapped his hand away. 

"Brooke. Come on...", he said so quietly I almost didn't hear him. 

Then something I didn't expect happened. She started to hit him. And not just a single slap, no. 

She slapped him and then started to repeatedly punch against his chest and stomach. 

Now, she wasn't that tall and he could've probably easily stopped her but for some reason he didn't try to defend himself at all until he was literally gasping for air. 

When a black car drove up behind her she finally grabbed his face with her hand and her perfectly manicured red nails looked like claws, digging into his skin. 

"I don't know why I put up with you, you piece of shit!", she spat in his face before letting go and getting into the car. 

When the boy turned around I didn't see any trace of the cocky grin from earlier in the hallway or even the psycho that Sain described to me. 

He just looked... exhausted, drained. His blue eyes were so hallow it was kind of disturbing. 

I got so distracted that I forgot that I was clearly staring at him and now he noticed. 

Suddenly his empty look was filled with rage as he charged towards me. "HEY! WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT!",James suddenly yelled and again it felt like there was a completely differed person in front of me. 

With a swift movement I jumped up from the stairs and let my headphones slip down to my neck. 

James seemed to be surprised by my reaction and stopped a few feet away from me. 

I made a point to keep my stance as non threatening as possible, I had buried my hands in the pockets of my denim jacket and kept my facial expression neutral. 

Maybe my relaxed demeanor only freaked him out even more. "I SAID WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT, FUCK TARD?!", James yelled, stepping closer again. 

Now, only inches apart, the height difference was pretty obvious. As I was looking down at his anger filled expression, holding his furious glare, I contemplated if I could take him in a fight. 

While I would prefer to not let this thing escalate, I thought I could hold him down if necessary.

"Look...", I said raising one of my hands, trying to signal that he should step back. 

To my surprise and also shock he flinched away. His angry mask fell and for a second I saw something that resembled fear. 

Did he think I was going to hit him? 

I quickly put my hand down and forced myself to keep my voice calm.   
"I didn't see a thing. Okay?", I shrugged and now James' expression turned confused.

We stood like this for a few seconds. Just staring at each other and it should've felt awkward but it didn't.  

I could literally watch the tension leave his shoulders as his face turned back to the same expression of tiredness from earlier. 

Than I heard a car honking that made the both of us flinch. 

I looked past James to see a familiar mint colored VW bus, parking in front of the school. 

"That's my ride.", I shrugged, picking up my backpack and walking past the boy.

The strange boy watched me while I walked to the car and got in and all I could think about was how he just let his girlfriend punch him and how he flinched when I only raised my hand. 

And how this didn't seem like a one time thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the rest of the family!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a trigger warning for indicated child abuse in this. Nothing graphic though. 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy and leave reviews! I can't wait to show you all I have landed for this story.!

I met Max when I was 11 and the way how we met, I'm not too proud of. 

I stole something from his store. And it wasn't food or anything, no. Max owns a bookstore. I tried to steal a Harry Potter book. I know, so dumb.

He obviously caught me and I freaked out, started to cry and scream, I was so terrified and somehow he just knew. 

He saw this tiny kid, with so much fear in his huge eyes and bruises on his arms. This child that flinched away when he tried to comfort it, that found the simplest touch unbearable. And he knew.

So Max didn't call the cops and sat me down instead, waiting until I calmed down before he tried to figure out what was wrong with me. 

I know that he'd hate me saying that. He'd say that I have to give myself credit for how much I worked to become a somewhat normal person . And I am doing that, really. But I can also easily say that Max saved my life.

Ever since then he's always been there. At first I struggled to ask for help, I still do sometimes. But with time I learned that I could rely on Max if I needed school supplies or new shoes or a place to stay for a night. 

Some people might say Max was like a father to me. Since my actual father is trash I take offence to that. Max is better than a father. 

A father is expected to give their child love. Mine didn't even manage that. But Max was a stranger, nobody expected him to give me anything but he did anyways. 

"Hello kiddo, how's your first day?", he asked with a smirk as I got into his bus. The whole kiddo-thing was a relic from the days when I was still a child and Max a 21-year old. Back then he seemed so old to me even though he was just 10 years older than me. 

And now, that I was almost a grownup myself and also a few inches taller than him, the kiddo seemed a little silly but he still held on to the nickname. 

"Surprisingly uneventful.", I shrugged, intentionally leaving out what happened in the last 20 minutes. 

I wasn't even sure what happened or if anything happened at all. 

My friend Nat always said that I had helper's syndrome and that because of my past I saw abuse everywhere. She also said that Max was like that, too. 

So I decided to not bring it up, for now. But I also planned to keep an eye on James until I was sure that there was nothing to worry about. 

"I met another scholarship recipient. His name is Sam, he's from Brooklyn. ", I started to babble.

"The classes should be alright. Though, I don't know about some of the students yet. Sam told me some slightly concerning stuff."

"For example?", Max asked, not taking his eyes off the road as he stroked through his dark brown hair, it was getting slightly too long for his taste.

"There are about 20 Scholarship spots, some pay full, some only part of the tuition. Apparently, on average 2/3 of the scholarship recipients drop out. That leaves roughly 6-7 students who actually make it. And according to Sam it's because some students have made it their mission to make graduating as hard as possible for us.", I explained calmly. I wasn't extremely concerned about all of this since I've been through worse but it wouldn't have been smart to just shrug it off either. 

Max gave me a concerned look before continuing to watch the traffic. 

"I don't need to tell you that if anything happens, you can tell me, right?"

"Of course not.", I smirked at him. "And now enough talk of this shit. I'm starving. Where are you taking me?"

"What do you think?", he asked with a cheeky grin and a smile spread on my lips. 

"Nadja's Pilimeni House?", I asked excitedly and Max nodded. 

Nadja's Pilimeni House was an amazing Russian restaurant that Max loved to eat at, not only because he was Russian himself, but also because the owner, Nadja, was like an aunt to him. 

Since it was his go-to place, we ate there often and now I had a real thing for Russian cuisine. It also helped to get Nat to feel more at home when she moved in with Max 

The ride took a while because we had to drive from Manhattan to Queens where both of us lived. 

"Where are the others by the way?", I asked after a few minutes. 

"I'm picking them up right now.", Max shrugged and I raised my eyebrows. 

"From school? Max, classes stopped hours ago!", I exclaimed and he only laughed. 

"No! From home! You're the only one who's willing to wait hours for me.", he chuckled and I joined in. 

About a year after we met, Max started to work with lgbt-youth-shelters. At first he was just volunteering but after a while he got his fostering-license and started to take in kids. 

Right now he had three. Natasha, a 16 year old lesbian, Clint, who was a1 few months older than me and a trans guy, and Wanda. Max took her in 3 months ago and she was only 11 years old. 

Clint, who had lived with Max the longest, always said that I was Max first child and in a way it was true. Even though he never fostered me and I still lived with my mother, he was my family. 

We pulled up into the driveway of Max' townhouse. While he was in no way as rich as any of the parents that send their children to Blackwood Academy, his parents left him with a tiny fortune and a bookstore when they died. 

He used most of the money to buy the house for his foster kids. When I met him he was living in a tiny apartment above his store but he figured he'd need more space if he wanted to foster children. 

The rest of his savings he put away. "In case any of you want to go to college.", he said when Natasha asked why he didn't use it for anything else. 

With another car honk he alerted the others that he was there and a few minutes later they came out of the House and climbed into the back of the bus. 

"Hey Rogers! Max!", Clint greeted us and signed silmutaniously as he came in first. He might've been much shorter than me but the guy was fit as fuck, with really brought shoulders that I was, not gonna lie, kinda jealous of. 

Nat came in next. While I only knew her for a year, she was like a sister from a different mother to me. A sib from another crib. Even though, nobody with eyes in their head would mistake us for siblings. She was tiny, with porcelain skin, dark red hair and a Russian accent.

At last Wanda entered. The small brunette gave each of us a shy smile before sitting down and putting on her seatbelt. Even though she was still barely talking, this smile was already an improvement since she was initially too scared to even look at us. 

I didn't know the details but she was in rough shape when she got here. There had to have been some heavy abuse in her past. 

"Ready for dinner?", Max asked cheerfully while starting the car again. 

"Have been for last two hours, but whatever. ", Nat smirked and I could see a light blush spread on Max' cheeks.

"Come on Nat, you know that Max operates on a two hour time difference to the rest of us. It's cause he's Russian. Not used to American time.", I joked looking back at the girl but she only raised an eyebrow. 

"First of all, he is born here and second, even if he wasn't, your statement would still not make any sense at all. Besides, Nat is Russian too.", Tate threw in and I had to smirk.

"Exactly. I have no idea how your birdbrain got accepted at Blackwood.", Nat tried to tease me and I gasped in shock. 

"How dare thou question my genius?!Thou shall not spit such untruth.", I exclaimed dramatically which only earned me an eye roll and a "Just don't. "

Finally we arrived at Nadja's and by the time we finished our food, I had almost forgotten about James.

Almost.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: violence
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter and leave a review!

I spend the next week of school either looking out for James or avoiding everyone who he was connected to. Which are two very opposing goals. 

The only time he seemed to be by himself was in the one of the classes we shared. History. 

While history was one of the only subjects I found genuinely interesting, I spend all my time watching James instead. Creepy, I know. But somehow I was simultaneously confused and fascinated by him. 

You might be asking, why? Mainly because I hate not understanding something. And there was a whole lot I didn't understand about James.

The issue I had was that he seemed to be different guy all the time. 

The popular cocky douch, that laughed with his friends and made out with his girlfriend in the hallways. Who talked about the crazy parties he went to. (I didn't eavesdrop, I swear. He yelled about it in the cafeteria.)

The defeated, exhausted boy, that flinched as soon as you raised your hand.

The psycho Sam told me about, that had to be carded away, tied to a stretcher.

And now the kid in history class, who always had a snarky comment for the teacher. But who was also clever and eager to learn, always smiling when he got an answer right. And somehow this smile seemed the realest. 

It was frustrating, not knowing what was real. 

It reminded me of the first Halloween we spend with Natasha and she just went wild with her costume choice. 

She wanted to be Wonder Woman. But also a Spacefighter and a Steampunk version of that. 

On their own all of these ideas made sense. But seeing them all together was a mess that made no sense at all. 

Just like James, who seemed to have all these different personalities that didn't go with each other. It was infuriating to decipher what was real. 

Aside from this puzzle, everything else was fine at school. At least until Friday. 

During lunch break I went to the bench in the square where Sam and I ate together. 

I was there first and after a few minutes I started to wonder why he was taking so long.

Instead of thinking about it anymore I put on my headphones and started to eat my sandwich. 

Since nobody except for the two of us seemed to go to this corner, I let my guard down. In hindsight, that was a mistake. 

I didn't even notice the group of boys approaching me until one was waving their hand in front of my face. 

When I looked up I was surrounded by five boys. Based on my observation from the prior week it were Jack Rollins and Seff Tate, two other friends of them and also James.

If you want to know what Jack and Seff looked like, imagine a jock-character from any form of medium that involves high school. Now add a bunch of designer clothes onto them and there you have it. 

The only real thing that set them apart from each other was that Jack had short blonde hair and was really pale, and Seff looked latin. But they were both quite tall, not as tall as me, though. And hella fit. Their muscles had muscles. 

I pulled down my headphones in time to hear Jack say:"Hey social case! What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

I quickly assessed my situation. 5 against one, 4 if I was lucky. 3 of which are obviously stronger than me. 

This fight I couldn't win, no matter how I turned it. So my only way was to get out of here, somewhere where more people were. A teacher preferably. 

"Waiting for a friend. ", I shrugged calmly and got up, picking up my backpack with my hand. 

"Oh is that so? You are new, aren't you? Already made some friends?", Seff smirked at me evily while getting uncomfortably close. 

His breath on my skin gave me goosebumps. I couldn't step back, I'd fall over the bench. Shit.

"Sure.", I shrugged once more while sliding to the side, past him. 

They didn't seem to like that and continued to circle me. 

My mind started to race. Shit shit shit! When it came to fight or flight I would rather pick the latter but that didn't seem to be an option right now. 

Still, it didn't go past me that James seemed to stay back, just crossing his arms and watching. 

So I directed my eyes to him and surprisingly he held my glare. The painted on smirk seemed to fade ever so slightly.

"Come on guys. Leave him alone. It's his first week. You'll have enough time to fuck him up. Besides, I'm bored.", he then said in a laid back and uninterested tone.  

His friends seemed to be just as surprised as me, turning around to stare at him like he had just confessed his undying love to me. 

James just shrugged, with a bored expression which seemed to be enough of an 'explanation' to his friends. 

"Don't worry J. This won't take long."Seff smirked. Without any warning. He grabbed me by my shirt and hurled me against the wall behind me. 

He was so fast, I have no clue why I didn't at least try to stop him. Next thing I know my head is crashing against the wall and a burning pain shoots through me, followed by nausea and dizziness. 

Seff's face blurred in front of my eyes and before I knew it he rammed his knee into my stomach and knocked the air out of my lungs. 

The only thing holding me up by this point were his hands on my shoulders. My body was fucking useless while my mind was running in circles, trying to stay conscious.

When he rammed his fist into my face I was almost gone. My attention lasted for long enough to realize that he had let go of me, that I was falling to the ground and that my mouth was filling with blood, probably from a split lip or something. 

As I was kneeling on the floor, trying to stop the ground from spinning, I thought he was done. I thought wrong. 

He finished his attack off with a kick to my ribs that made me spit out the blood in my mouth and fall to one side. 

Their laughter seemed so far away. Next thing I know I'm laying on my back, looking up at the sky and gasping for air. I'm alone. Until I'm not. 

Sam's face appeared in my view, wide eyes and a trembling lip.

"Cole?", he asks with a shaky voice. "Oh god I'm so sorry. I was talking to a teacher and forgot the time."

The world was still spinning and I figured that I had a concussion. I knew how concussions felt.

I didn't trust myself to speak without more blood spilling out of my lips.

So I just held out my arm, asking for his help without any words.

Sam understood and took my hand, pulling me up and supporting my back with his other hand. 

My ribcage was hurting badly and I had a headache. At first I was mostly leaning on the other guy but when I tried to stand by myself I almost fell over. So I accepted him as my crutch.

Sam didn't ask what happened, he knew. Great. Than this was something that just happened around here.

"Are you hurt anywhere else beside your lip?", the boy asked examining my face. 

Before speaking I spat out the remaining blood in my mouth. 

"My ribs...", I managed to say pulling up my shirt. 

My right side, where he kicked me already started to bruise. I tapped against my ribs and it hurt but they didn't seem cracked. 

At last I let my hand touch the back of my head where I felt a stinging pain and something wet. 

Sam cursed at the blood on my hand as I already spotted the red stain on the wall where my head made contact. 

"I can't...stay...", I stammered still holding on to consciousness. There was something sour at the back of my throat. 

"Should I call a teacher, the hospital, your parents?", Sam asked like a shotgun. 

"No... need... Max...", I mumbled before I suddenly started to gag and taste bile in my mouth. 

I let go of Sam to get him out of line and fell back onto my knees in time before my stomach started to violently empty itself. 

My vision blurred and I heard Sam curse some more but all I could do was vomit my guts out until I was empty. 

For the second time this day I fell on my side and rolled to my back. 

I had no idea that a teacher came running to us or that Sam had called an ambulance or that they would try to contact my mother. 

All I could think about was how fluffy the clouds looked and how badly I wanted to sleep.

Sleep, sweet release.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the chapter and leave a review!

The hospital room was a nice one, I was alone, the bed was comfortable and there were flowers on the table next to me, and that confused me at first. Until I figured that Max probably paid for it. 

I made him my emergency contact years ago because I knew that the probability of reaching my mother was pretty fucking low. And even if they did, she wouldn't know what to do.

So it was no surprise when Max came in with a worried smile. 

He wanted to know what happened, so did the school and I could've told them. The dark purple bruises along my ribcage gave me enough of a reason to name the guys that beat me up. 

But I remembered Sam's words when I asked him why no one stopped their behavior yet. 

"Some have tried. This boy, Billy, he used to be in my class. His parents actually sued Jack after Jack drove him to have a mental breakdown. But those kids are so rich, they have to best lawyers in town. Billy's family didn't stand a chance in cord and he never came back to school."

"I can't remember.", Is what I said over and over again. To Max, to the school, the doctors, the police. The lie left a bitter taste in my mouth but I did it anyways. Like I had done before.

It came as quite a relief that I was advised to stay home for the following week. 

By home I mean Max' place. He wouldn't have left me alone with my mom in my weakened state but promised to check in on her every day. 

So after a day at the hospital I was released home where I enjoyed the next week, hanging out in the room Nat and I shared when I slept over. 

Clint had his own room because he had this thing where he could only sleep when he was alone and Natasha and I didn't have the whole 'a boy and a girl sharing a room'-controversy because Max knew that we were both pretty gay and only interested in playing final fantasy together. 

Besides, Natasha and I got along great. It felt like we knew each other since forever. 

During the day, when Clint and Natasha were in school, I stayed in the room and took naps or played with Wanda. Max was homeschooling her until she was ready to go to a real school. 

'Playing' with Wanda consisted of me playing with the dolls while Wanda laughed at the funny voices I gave them. 

"But Ken?! The schooldance is tonight!", I said in a high pitched voice. Ken forgot prom and Barbie is shook. 

"What? I thought it was on Saturday?!", ken's deep voice asked.

"IT IS SATURDAY!", Barbie shrieked. Cue Wanda's laughter. 

Playing with the little girl was pleasant. I didn't have to think or worry about anything. 

After one or two hours of playing with her I looked up to find Max standing in the doorway, watching us with a small smile. 

"You are really good with her.", he then said and a warm fuzzy feeling filled my chest.

"Ah... It's nothing.", I shrugged him off but he only raised an eyebrow. 

"You still don't like to give yourself credit huh?", Max then smirked. "But really, she trusts you. Also she reminds me of you when you were that age.", he added and I had to laugh 

"Except that I was never as mild mannered as her.", I smirked at him.

"No. You are and always have been a little troublemaker.", Max laughed before becoming serious. 

"That's another thing I wanted to ask you about. I know you said that you don't remember who attacked you, but I have to ask you if that's true. It wouldn't be the first time that you protect someone who-"

I cut him off right then and there. "It's not like that! If it was I would tell somebody.",I said quickly. 

"You didn't tell anyone about Gabe.",Max said quietly and my guts made a turn. 

My next words escaped me quietly and without my consent:"Back then nobody cared." 

The look on Max face made me regret saying anything at all. I hated when people looked at me like that, especially him.

"Sorry for bringing it up kiddo. I'm just-", Max started but I cut him off. 

"Looking out for me. I know. And I appreciate that. You know I do. But it's not like that this time. I promise.", I explained rubbing my temples with my fingertips. 

My headache was returning, time for another nap.

After that Max didn't dig any deeper. The week went by blissfully unexciting. 

That is until Saturday night, when Sam called me. 

We've been texting for the past week and he kept me updated on what was going on in school.

I was currently playing Mario cart against Nat and Clint when my phone started to buzz. 

I paused the game under the loud protests of my friends, to leave the room and pick up my phone. 

"What up Sammy?", I asked and I heard the boy smirk. 

"Sammy? Where did this come from?", he asked and I shrugged even though he couldn't see me.

"Just came up with It. Why are you calling?", I asked a little bit in a hurry. Our current race was almost finished and I couldn't wait to beat Natasha. 

"Maria Hill throws a gigantic party every year at the beginning of the school year and it's always crazy fun, even for us social cases and I wanted to ask if you want to come?",he asked. 

Even though I had recovered from my concussion and only had traces of my bruised ribs and split lip left, a party sounded like a bad idea.

"I'll be there. Text me when and where.", I smirked and I could hear Sam chuckle.

"Alright! See you there!",he said before hanging up. 

Now, why did I do that? As with most things, I only find reasoning for my actions later on. In this case, it was very much about pride. 

Yes, staying here all week was nice, but I didn't want to seem like I was hiding. That I wouldn't just hide away or be an easy target. 

"We are going to a party!", I exclaimed as I entered Nat's room again. 

Both their heads snapped towards me.

"Really? Did Tony invite us in the group chat?", Finn wondered, reaching for her phone to check. 

"No. Not Tony. It's the party of one of my new schoolmates.", I smirked at my friends but they both raised their eyebrows in unison.

"The schoolmates that beat you up?", Clint signed and I shrugged with a grin. 

"Yeah, why not. I'm feeling good again. "

For a second I was a little worried about their answer but I soon realized there was nothing to worry about. 

"Alright! Let's look how the rich kids party!", Nat laughed, jumping up from the couch, walking over to her closet and starting to pick out an outfit. 

"It sounds like fun.", Clint shrugged with a crooked grin. He was the most laid back of us three. "But we should ask Max first.", he then added and sadly, I had to agree. 

It would be a little harder to convince him.


	6. Chapter 6

"A party? Steve, you are literally recovering from a concussion!", Max exclaimed with raised eyebrow. 

Topics like this were always complicated between the two of us because both of us knew that Max wasn't my legal or biological guardian so in theory, I could do what I wanted. But not having him approve would feel weird. 

"I don't want to seem like I'm hiding.", I tried to explain. 

"You weren't hiding, you were sick!", Max returned and I smirked slightly. 

"Exactly. I was sick and now I'm better. Come on, I won't drink anything and I'll have Nat and Clint to watch out for me.", I pleaded and Max sighed looking over at his other two kids. 

Clint smiled awkwardly and gave him a thumbs up. 

"Okay!", he groaned dramatically. "But none of you drink! Clint drives! And if anyone touches any of you, you punch first and ask questions later, understood?"

Natasha, Clint and I gave each other a grin. This would be interesting.

An hour later we were on our way to the party. It was in some villa in Jericho and it took us a while to get there. 

But once we arrived at the bodacious mansion, we were all in awe. The whole building was lit up like a Christmas tree and the whole fucking school seemed to be present. 

Groups of people were already gathered in the front yard and at the entrance, chatting, laughing and obviously heavily drinking. 

It took me a while to spot Sam. He was wearing a black leather jacket and ripped jeans. 

A grin forward on the boys lips one he spotted me and waved me over. 

As I approached him, Sam hugged me. Hugs were big with him and I didn't mind. Not anymore, at least. 

As I seperated from hi. I grinned. "Hey Sam. Let me introduce you to Clint and Natasha.", I said dramatically pointing at my friends. 

Natasha had settled on wearing a red, cheerleader-like skirt, a black lace top and a white and red bomber jacket that had a huge spider stitched on the back. 

Clint just wore his usual black pants and plaid shirt. 

Tasha was the first to speak. "Hey! You must be Sam! Cole told us about you.", she mused before playfully elbowing me in my side. 

As I laughed and laid my arm around Nat I saw Sam's smile shift ever so slightly. 

"Let's go inside.", he said a little too quickly but since he was still smiling I just shrugged it off. 

The inside was remenisant of a fucking castle, that's how huge it was. With really high ceilings and chandeliers hanging from them. 

I couldn't see too much of the furniture because it was just so full. There were students everywhere. In the couches, standing on tables, loudly singing songs that played over the boxes while the others danced.

We all had to hold on to each other while making our way through the crowd so that we wouldn't get seperated.

"So, who of these fuckers beat you up?", Nat yelled in my ear from behind me. 

I gave her a frown but she only rolled with her eyes. "Don't bullshit Rogers. You remember, don't you?"

Yeah, it was pretty useless to try to hide something from Natasha. 

I sighed before starting to look around, trying to spot them. 

The thing is, it's not hard to spot James and his crew. They are all little attention attractors.

Just like I suspected I found them standing on top of a table in the living room. Jack, Seff and James. All loudly singing the lyrics of a Drake song. 

"It's them!", I yelled back at Tasha, pointing at the boys and her face turned into an angry frown.

The girl let go of my hand and tried to walk towards them, probably to do something stupid but I held tightly onto her hand, not letting her leave. 

Nat gave me an annoyed scoff, tugging at her arm. 

"It's not worth it! I swear!", I yelled again and continued to pull her away. Finally she gave in and we continued our journey through the living room.

Finally we were outside again and entered the garden. And let me tell you, it was breathtakingly beautiful. 

The garden was huge and seperated into different levels, with white stairs connecting them. Fairylights were lighting up the whole place and loud music was coming from everywhere. 

It was insane, like a modern Gatsby-party. 

"What the fuck!",Natasha exclaimed with a wide grin. She had already forgiven me for dragging her out here. 

Instead she grabbed mine and Clint's hand, pulling is to one of the dance floors while Sam trailed behind us.

Natasha loved to dance, always did and she expected all of us to join. There was just something about her that gave her the ability to hype up even someone like Clint, who was not one to bust the moves. 

So after a short period of awkward sweighing we all found a common rhythm and started to dance more freely in our little circle of four. 

Of course Natasha was more outgoing with her moves than Sam and Clint but I managed to keep up with her energy pretty well. Even though I was just mostly jumping up and down. 

That went on for a while until 'Womanizer' by Britney Spears started to play. 

Natasha's head whipped around to stare at me with wide eyes and I returned the glare. "Womanizer choreo!", she yelled and I nodded with a wide grin. 

Clint knew to step away a little and carefully pull Sam with him to give us more room. 

Then we started our choreographed dance. There were no hyper-complex moves but we still had a lot of fun, just like when we came up with it last Christmas. 

When the final note played I wrapped my hands around Nat's waist, lifting her up. Her skin was as hot as mine and I could hear her laughter in my ear. 

Once I let her down again I noticed how sweaty I was. "Time for something to drink. Stay hydrated!", I exclaimed and started to leave the dance floor.

My friends followed me as I made my way to one of the many tables that served drinks and snacks. 

Clint and Natasha got a Soda while I and Sam drank water. 

"So how long have you two been dating for?", Sam suddenly asked. He was smiling but seemed a little stiff. 

Natasha and I gave each other a look before breaking out into spontaneous gagging. 

Sam frowned at the both of us until we were done. 

"Dating? God no! Ew ew ew.", Tasha shook her head. "Rogers and I are like siblings. Not more. Also we're both gay as a fairy pooping glitter.", she then added and I laughed until I saw the look on Sam's face. 

Slightly embarrassed but also satisfied. , a grin tugging at his lips. 

"You're gay?", he asked casually and I only shrugged. "Ya. It's no big deal."

"Don't say that too loud at this school. ", Sam remarked, rolling with his eyes. "Just a tip cryin a fellow bisexual.", he added with a wink before drinking five of his water. 

I couldn't help but to blush slightly at that. Flirting was genuinely an issue for me, it freaked me out most of the time. Just like that evening.

"Uh... yeah. If you'll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom. ", I stammered slightly before walking past my friends and made my way back to the mansion. 

It was so full and I heard no idea where the bathroom was so I just randomly started to open doors. In one room a group of girls was sitting in, giggling hysterically. In another room a bunch of people were smoking weed. 

When I opened another door I expected to see something similar. That's why I froze up when I saw two people having sex. 

The guy was laying there, completely naked, while a girl in a dress was sitting on top of him and grinding against him. 

It didn't take me long to recognize the girl, even though I only saw her back. That long dark hair was clearly Brook's.

It took me second longer to realize that the guy was James and that he was unconscious. 

Then something just snapped in me. "What are you doing?!", I yelled and the girl flinch before turning around to face me. 

Her doll face was glaring at me. "Get the fuck out, creep!", she yelled while still humping the knocked out James. It was sickening. 

"He's unconscious!", I exclaimed. Didn't she see how fucked up this was?!

Then she did something that pissed me off even more. She grinned before saying:"But his Dick isn't."

That was it, for me. Suddenly I felt like an 11-year old again and I wanted to scream and thrash because the pain was too much. 

"Get the fuck away from him.", I spoke and I honestly didn't recognize my own voice. It was calm but with a deep rage underneath the surface. And apparently enough to scare off Brook.

"Cockblock.", she scoffed before getting off his dick and stumbling out of the room. Apparently she wasn't sober either. But that was no excuse. 

I tried to ignore James' half-errect penis and naked body, instead focusing on his face. 

Carefully I laid my hands around his face, trying to wake him up. "James? James!"

When he didn't react I checked his breathing. I was relieved to hear it but  also really fucking terrified. 

What was I supposed to do now? He was black out drunk. Maybe he had even taken drugs. I was not prepared to deal with that. 

While I felt the panic in my chest rise, I decided to start out by turning him on his side in case he had to vomit. 

And sure enough, not a minute later a rigid movement went through his body and pool of vomit poured out of his mouth and onto the pillow. 

"Shit!", I cursed, rushing over to him to lift his head when I realized that he's awake. 

James looked up at me with wide and glazed eyes before asking with a trembling voice:"W-Where am I?"

"At a party. Do you remember?", I asked, gently lifting his head onto my lap. Fuck, what was I even doing?

James mumbled something inaudible before lifting his head to look at himself. When he saw his naked body he whimpered and let his head fall back into my lap. 

His blue eyes looked so much bigger than usual when he looked up at me again. I couldn't tell if he recognized me, if he knew what was going on at all.

"I have to get out of here...", he then whined and looked at me with pleading eyes. 

"Okay. Should I call someone? An ambulance? Your parents?", I asked softly so that he wouldn't freak out. 

Somehow that reached the opposite of what I intended. 

"No... no...please don't... not my parents... No!", James whimpered and started to curl up, pulling his knees to his chest. 

Look, I have been through some pretty dramatic shit, so this situation was not entirely new to me. But for the most part I was the one who had to be taken care of, not the other way around.

"Where else should I take you then?", I asked, trying to stay calm. 

"Somewhere... don't care where...", he mumbled and I had to make a decision.  Should I take him to Max' place?

I knew that Max would understand if I explained it to him, but still...

After thinking about it for a second I took out my phone and texted Natasha and Clint that I needed their help and that they should come up to the room. 

Surely, a few minutes later the door opened and my friends came in. 

"What the fuck is going on?!", Natasha frowned when she saw the naked boy in my lap. James only whimpered but didn't acknowledge their presence any further. 

"I found him here. His girlfriend was fucking him even though he was unconscious. I need your help to put him in some clothes and get him to Max.", I explained quickly.

"So?! It's his girlfriend!", Natasha exclaimed and I glared at her. Did she really just say that?

"That doesn't mean it's consensual!", I snapped back and Nat shut up. 

After a few seconds of silence Clint sighed and went through his hair with his hands. "Why would you even want to help him? Isn't he one of the guys that beat you up?",he then signed. 

Funnily, I didn't even think about that. And even though he technically didn't lay a hand on me, he still let it happen. 

Considering my state in the last week, yeah! I should be mad! And believe me, I'm not happy that it happened either. Still, this didn't mean that I could just leave him here.

"Really, Clint? You think I'd care? I don't care that he's an ass, I can't leave him here. What if something happens to him? You think I could live with that?", I asked him quietly, trying to not startle the boy any more.

Clint sighed defeated. He knew he couldn't argue with me when it came down to something like this, that he didn't have any right to. 

"Why not bring him home? Or ask his friends to look out for him?", Tasha snapped. 

James instantly whined and started to curl up even more, he looked miserable. 

I raised my eyebrows, pointing at his reaction and the girl sighed, burying her face in her hands. 

"Okay. Let's get this bitch dressed.", she finally agreed and Clint nodded as well. 

After several minutes of trying to get James into his pants and shirt, (it was really a struggle. He flinched away whenever someone tried to touch him  but was also not able to do it by himself) we finally managed to leave the room. Clint and I carried James between the two of us while Natasha walked ahead. 

We got out of the house and to the car fine. In the car, Natasha and Clint sat at the front while I sat in the back, with the barely conscious James leaning against me. 

Only now I allowed myself to feel something again. Mostly I was terrified, of tomorrow morning when James would wake up in our place. Also I was mad, because I was done with dealing with shit like this. I wanted to leave it behind me. 

After a long and silent drive we arrived at Max's house and almost dragged James to the door. 

When Max opened the door his eyes fell on the barely conscious boy between us.

"What happened?!", he asked alarmed.

"Steve and his fucking helper syndrome happened!", Natasha growled annoyed.


	7. Chapter 7

When I woke up the next morning in red sheets, not white, I was disoriented. But that was nothing new. 

I lifted my heavy eyelids and looked around the foreign room. Warm yellow and red tones all around, movie posters, a brown couch and a guitar leaning in one corner.

Where the fuck was I?

That might be the worst of it, not knowing where you are, what happened, what you did with who. 

With a slightly shaking hand I lifted the blanket to check if I was still wearing pants. A relieved sigh escaped me when I found myself dressed. 

"You are awake!", a female voice spoke behind me and I flinched. 

When I turned around I faced a petite redhead, dressed in blue mom jeans and a red sweater. I had no idea who she was but she looked angry. Like I disgusted her. 

"D-did we have sex?", I stammered. I could've slapped myself for how miserable I sounded. 

"No! Ew!", the girl exclaimed, pulling a face. "I'll call Steve.", she then said as if that explained anything. Before leaving she handed me a bottle of water. "Drink.", was all she said and I complied. 

While I waited for whoever Steve was I tried to remember what happened the night before. I was at a party and I drank a lot and then... nothing. So nothing special. 

With a sigh I rubbed my temples, not because of a headache. I actually wasn't that hungover. No, it was more of a nervous tick.

A few seconds later a tall boy stepped through the door and it made click. 

Of course I recognized him. The boy from the school entrance. The boy that Seff and Jack attacked. 

Somehow he managed to work his way into my thoughts over and over again in the last 2 weeks even though I didn't know his name. 

"Hey.", he said quietly, leaning again the door frame. 

He wore a simple black shirt and sweatpants and his slightly short blond hair was wet, probably from showering. 

Steve was attractive. I noticed that the first time I saw him. His tall muscular body, those baby bue eyes, so much friendlier than the cold ice I saw every time I looked in a mirror.

Right now he looked pretty serious, his eyebrows were pulled together into a slight frown. 

From all the places I could've woken up in, this was craziest. A total stranger would've been more probable. 

While I had no idea what Steve was like, maybe he was a nice guy, who knows, I was still complicit in him getting beat up. 

And not only slightly. I still couldn't get the image of his blood on the wall out of my head. Or the sound he made when they kicked him into his ribs. 

Anyone would be mad at that. Suddenly I had a creepy thought. What if he kidnapped me to get revenge? I'd probably deserve it. 

"Why am I here?", I asked, my voice cracking. 

Steve took a deep breath and his eyes shifted around the room. It seemed like he was avoiding my gaze.  
"You were at a party and I accidentally came in on you and your girlfriend having sex. But you were unconscious and it didn't seem right so I send her out. When you woke up you were pretty miserable and asked me to drive you away. You didn't want to go home or to your friends and I didn't want to leave you there so I took you home so you could sleep off your drinking spree.", he explained still barely looking at me. 

A bunch of thoughts ran through my mind. Brook would be pissed. And mom and dad would be, too. Also, why would Steve care. 

Yesterday was nothing special. Brook just really liked to fuck and I had gotten used to that. It was fine. I mean, I'm her boyfriend, why would I stop her? 

But then again, I rarely enjoy it anymore. 

It used to be different, really. Brook used to be everything my world revolved around. 

We knew each other since we were babies, were best friends, I fell in love with her in elementary and we started to date in middle school. 

She knew everything about me and still wanted to be with me, which was honestly unbelievable. I'm lucky that she didn't run off ages ago. 

And she can be really amazing. Brook is one of the smartest people I know. She was always a bit arrogant but when we were young we understood each other without words. 

Lately that changed. At first she only seemed annoyed, then angry, then hateful. She'd yell and lash out.   
Like she only now started to realize how fucked up I was. 

But who else would I be with?

Steve cleared his throat and I realized that I had silently stared at nothing for the last few minutes and I looked up at him. 

The boy finally looked at me but he still seemed nervous. Obviously. I'm the guy that watched while he was brutally assaulted. It's a mystery why he would even give a flying fuck about me. 

"Why?", I heard myself ask and his eyebrows shot up. "Why didn't you just leave me there?", I specified. 

Steve looked down again. "You couldn't watch out for yourself. ", he then shrugged as if anyone would've done the same. 

I looked around uncomfortably. He'd probably want me to pay him back. "Do you want me to pay you something or should I-", I started to ask but he cut me off.

"No, No, No. All I want you to do is get up and eat breakfast.", he said, walking up to me now, extending his arm for me to grab it. 

I eyed his hand for a minute, it was elegant, with long slender fingers, before taking it and letting him pull me up onto my feet. When I looked down myself again I realized something. 

"Did I get dressed by myself?", I asked him, already dreading the answer.

"No... I had to help you.", he said, again diverting his eyes. 

I was glad about it, though. This way at least he didn't see me blush from embarrassment. 

"Alright...", I mumbled, lowering my head before following him into the hallway. 

He then lead me to the kitchen. It didn't take me long to notice a drastic difference to my own home. 

You could feel it; that a happy family lived here. The kitchen was bright and it smelled like fresh pancakes and coffee. The furniture wasn't new and looked used but also cared for. There were family pictures hanging from the walls.

The girl who was there when I woke up was sitting on the counter and drinking a cup of coffee, a pile of pancakes beside her. Once I entered she narrowed her eyes at me.

Steve and I sat down at the wooden table with the bright yellow tablecloth. 

The girl soon jumped off the counter and joined us, placing the plate with the pancakes on the table. 

Once she sat down she continued to silently glare at me. Which didn't go by unnoticed. 

"Stop that Nat.", Steve said calmly while he placed a pancake on each of our plates. He seemed much more relaxed now. Probably because he didn't have to be alone with me any more.

"Sorry if I don't trust the guy that beat you up. My bad!", she spat sarcastically while pouring syrup on her pancakes. 

Steve glared at her while I kept my eyes on my plate. 

"Technically he didn't beat me up. He just watched.", Steve said as if that was any better. 

"Oh yeah, he's a saint.", Natasha snapped back and Steve stayed silent, instead looking over at me. I didn't dare to look up though. I just stared at the pancake in front of me. 

"Are they good?", a male voice suddenly asked and I automatically looked up to see a brown haired guy in his late 20s, entering the kitchen.

"Nice as always!", Steve said, smiling slightly and eating his food. I still didn't touch it. 

The man sat down across from me and leaned back in his chair, focusing his eyes on me. 

"I'm Max, by the way.", he then said with a neutral smile. He didn't seem as angry as Natasha. Maybe, I thought, Steve didn't tell him who I was.

"I hope you aren't feeling too hungover right now.", he then added and I shrugged. 

"And I also hope that you aren't too mad that Steve kidnapped you.", he then smirked looking over at the boy next to me. 

"I just wanted to be sure that he's okay!", Stevee exclaimed with pancakes stuffed in his cheeks but Max only waved him off.

I still didn't understand why they made such a big deal about this. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. 

Still, I felt exhausted and numb. But I felt like this most of the time. I probably just needed a drink. 

"Can I go home?", I heard myself ask and everyone at the table turned their attention back to me. 

"Yes, I'll drive you.", Steve said, already getting up. "I'll just put on some actual pants.", he then added before rushing away into the bedroom I slept in. 

Max excused himself before following him which only left me and Natasha. Her open glare was making me quite uncomfortable and after a few seconds I asked where the bathroom was. 

On my way there I heard Steve and Max talk quietly behind the door. I had to concentrate to make out what they were saying. 

"Are you alright. With the whole situation I mean. I wouldn't want-", Max said but Steve seemed to cut him off.

"There was a moment last night. Like a flashback or something. Only for a second. But I'm fine now. Or almost fine, you know what I mean.", Steve explained and I froze. What were they talking about. Was it because of what I did, what I let happen?

I quickly turned around and walked back to the kitchen, not wanting to hear more of that. 

A few minutes later Steve and Max returned and I left with the boy, already dreading the car ride.

~

We drove in a pale green VW bus which was unlike anything I had ever set foot in. Mainly because of how messy it was. Colourful blankets covering the seats, books lying around in the back, coffee stains everywhere and and a cup holder turned candle stand. 

Aside from me giving Steve my address we spend the whole car ride with awkward small talk. 

"So is Max your brother?", I asked after a while of silence. The boy smirked, not taking his eyes off the road. "Nah.", he then said and I raised my eyebrows. 

"Your dad?", I asked surprised. He seemed too young for that. 

"No!", Steve laughed. He had a nice laugh, quiet but heartfelt, with his face scruntching up. 

"But you live with him?", I asked confused but Steve shook his head. 

"Nope. I live with my mom. Max is just a good friend. He helps me out.", the boy shrugged and I stopped asking any further. 

The silence returned and stayed until we finally arrived at my parent's town house.

It was one of the prettiest and most expensive homes around here. Still I hated it in there. 

So I just stayed in the front seat of the bus, staring out of the window for a while and Steve didn't rush me.

That had to be the most confusing part of all of this. That Steve was so nice to me. 

"Do you hate me? Because I didn't stop them?", I heard myself ask even though I didn't know if I wanted an honest answer. 

"Why didn't you?", Steve asked me after a while. Didn't see that coming. Even though I had thought about it for the last week, over and over again. 

I didn't know or care about Steve. He wasn't my responsibility. Still, after the only other time that I interacted with him, on the stairs to school on our first day, he seemed like an alright person.

I could've told them to leave him alone. Could've helped him, but I didn't. 

And I can pretend like I don't care about what Seff and Jack did to Steve and other kids like him. Even though it's sickening.

"I don't know. I mostly do what is expected of me. And when I don't it always ends bad. ", I replied honestly.   
"Were you injured really badly?", I then asked the other thing I couldn't stop thinking about.  

When he didn't show up this week I was worried, even though I wouldn't want to admit that. 

To my surprise he laughed, like, what was wrong with him?

"Aw! Were you worried?", he chuckled looking over at me. 

"Well you looked pretty rough when we left you.", I dared to smile slightly. 

"Pretty rough is an understatement. I think I blacked out like 3 times. I might've puked on Sam when he found me. I don't know.", he laughed and I felt myself get sick. I didn't expect such honesty . 

"But aside from a few cracked ribs and a concussion I'm fine!", he shrugged with a grin and I couldn't help but to gasp. 

"Your ribs are broken?!", I asked shocked. How didn't he punch me as soon as he saw my face?!

His grin faded for a second like he was confused but then he smiled again.  "Oh No! They weren't really cracked. I'm kidding! I wouldn't have gone to a party with broken ribs! They are just bruised.", he waved me off and I couldn't help to feel a little relieved.

"Can I see it?", I heard myself ask and I could've slapped myself. Why did I say that?! I didn't want to see it! I felt bad enough already!

"Uhhm... Sure.", Steve  shrugged before lifting the right side of his shirt. 

His ribs were slightly showing underneath his tanned skin and a huge bruise, bigger than my fist, covered it. 

It still had a blue-ish green-ish colour even though it happened over a week ago. I could only imagine how dark it was a few days ago. 

I don't know why but I found myself reaching out to him until my hand gently touched his warm skin. It was barely a stroke, not enough to hurt him. To my surprise Steve flinched away, pulling down his shirt again. His smile was gone and I felt like I had crossed a line. 

"Sorry...", I whispered and turned my head away, looking at the entrance to my home again. I really didn't want to go there. 

After a few minutes of silence I heard Steve speak again. 

"Are you okay?"

That question confused me. Of course I was. Why wouldn't I be? "What do you mean?", I asked instead, looking over at him again. 

The boy was all serious now and had diverted his eyes again, like he was looking for the right words.

"Does your girlfriend do things like this often? Hit you, have sex with you when you're unconscious?", he finally asked, now looking me in the eyes and I froze. 

I didn't see that coming. "It's- it's not a big deal!", I exclaimed, laughing nervously but Steve stayed serious.

"Yes it is. It's abuse.", he returned and I almost choked on my breath. Brook would never abuse me! She loved me and I loved her. 

Yes, sometimes I was stupid and had to be put in my place. And sometimes when I wasn't in the mood she wanted to have fun anyways. But that wasn't abuse! 

"You don't know what you're talking about!", I exclaimed but Steve didn't back down.  

"Actually, I do. More than I'd like to admit.", he said in a serious tone. Suddenly there was no sign of the carefree boy who laughed about the fact that he had a concussion. And something about his intense look convinced me that he really did know what he was talking about.  

Still, I wasn't ready to confront any of that, yet. Without another word I opened the door and jumped out of the car, quickly walking up to my house. 

I honestly can't say what I was thinking in that moment, just that I had to get away. Get a drink. Forget about that morning. About Steve. Never think of him again. 

But things are never that easy, are they?


End file.
